


Start of Our Everything

by raven_aorla



Series: anchor and kaleidoscope [2]
Category: Saturday Night Live, Weekend Update (SNL)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Making Out, Non-Graphic Smut, Sexuality Crisis, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 19:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15298533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: “I’m not ready to have, um, full-on sex with a guy yet,” Seth tells Stefon as he searches for a parking space. It feels like a weird thing to say after several minutes of discussing the merits of various game shows and Stefon’s desire to get a dog if he can save up to live in something larger than a studio. He needs clear boundaries before this escalates, though. “I’m starting to think that I might be, eventually, if it’s you. There's other things I'm up for.”“EEEEE.” Then Stefon’s squeal ends and he starts chewing on his bedazzled sleeve. “Sorry. Carry on, Seth Meyers.”[Can be read solo.]





	Start of Our Everything

Seth’s girlfriend is waiting for him inside their home, a few steps from the doorway.

“What’s with the suitcase, sweetie?” he asks. “Bit late at night to be leaving on a surprise trip - “

She just glares.

“What? Oh. Look, it was a joke, okay, you’ve seen how silly Stefon is.”

“You didn’t push him away.”

Seth shrugs helplessly. “He surprised me with the kiss, and I played along because the studio audience loved it so much.”

Then she rips the KISS ME I’M IRISH button off his suit jacket. He hadn’t realized he hadn’t taken it off. “We’ve talked about this. You’ve had excuses for so many special occasions you’ve either spent with him or invited him to tag along, or, or, or let him imply you’ve gotten up or will get up to all sorts of things together. I’ve given you plenty of chances. I’ve even been polite to him. I’m done now. I’ll send you my half of the rent until the lease is up but I am not staying here anymore. Have fun with that strung-out space cadet twink of yours.”

*****

About a month later, Amy Poehler shows up in Seth's dressing room and gives him a pamphlet on bisexuality/pansexuality, along with a cookie. "I haven't said anything to anyone, and I won't, but I'm tired of the moping and the pining." 

"Huh?" 

She hugs him. "You'll figure it out."

****

Stefon was excited that Seth Meyers invited him for coffee at a place Stefon recommended rather than a boring ol’ regular cafe. But this news Seth has dropped in Stefon’s lap isn’t making Stefon as happy as he thought it would. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. This sees like a bad time and place to cradle Seth’s face in them. It wouldn’t be funny or cute. Just being an asshole. Unlike what some people think, he knows the difference. “Wait, you don’t even have a girlfriend anymore? For _weeks_?”

With a sigh, Seth says, “I don’t want the whole country to know yet. I decided it wasn’t fair to you to not tell you if you’re - we’re - gonna be spending time together like we have been. On the show, could you please act like you don’t know this? And keep it a secret in general.”

“Suresuresuresure.” Stefon mimes zipping his lips, padlocking the zipper, and chucking the key out the window.

Seth gives him a tiny smile, then goes back to looking at the table, which is made from reclaimed wood left over from cheap kung fu movies. He got a black coffee, the most tragic of hot beverages.

“Is it because of what I did?” Old Stefon wouldn’t be displeased by this, but Today Stefon wishes Seth didn’t look so tired.

There’s such a long pause that Stefon starts to think Seth is having some kind of flashback or stroke or something before Seth says, “It’s because...it’s because I didn’t hate it.”

It’s not so much the words, but the tone, that makes Stefon cover his mouth. Then he feels a foot bump gently against his that makes him squeak and babble. “Do you want to try my Last Unicorn frappuccino? I’m the one who added it to the secret menu back when I was a barista here, before I got the club promoter gig.” _Thanks to you letting me talk about clubs I love on TV until I accidentally got their attention_ , Stefon doesn’t say, because he's thanked him a bunch already, and maybe that’d be too close to what’s bugging Seth. He holds out the pink and purple delight he ordered. “It’s kinda like the Starbucks unicorn frappuccino, but it’s also got a shot of Red Bull.”

“I don’t get it.” He looks amused-confused now, not as sad.

“See, there’s this book, and also a kid’s movie, called _The Last Unicorn_ , but I like the book better because my brother used to read it to me before bedtime. And, like, there’s a unicorn who gets mistaken for a white mare by people who don’t believe in unicorns, which is so saaaaaad, and there’s an evil red bull, an incompetent wizard, and…”

This leads to talking about books Seth likes, and other friendly, only slightly flirty things, not like how Stefon’s demonstrated his interest before. Maybe that was the key all along (and Stefon feels kinda dumb if that’s what it was), because after the coffee’s all been drunk and Seth’s tried the frappuccino and only gagged a tiny bit, Seth Meyers himself, Seth Meyers the one and only, touches Stefon’s forearm, featherlight as a songbird’s sneeze and asks, “Would you like a ride home?” Stefon knows that Seth knows that Stefon lives walking distance from here, and he knows that Seth knows that he knows.

****

Seth’s picked Stefon up at his place a handful of times. Stefon self-deprecatingly refers to it as “a garbage can”, but thankfully only as metaphor. It’s on what Stefon’s called the “Lower Lower East Side” and there’s a lot of litter and broken glass on the sidewalk in front. There’s also colorful graffiti Seth can barely read but finds oddly beautiful, despite his upbringing telling him he shouldn’t. He’s never been inside before now. How’s all _that_ for a metaphor?

“I’m not ready to have, like, full-on sex with a guy yet,” Seth tells Stefon as he searches for a parking space. It feels like a weird thing to say after several minutes of discussing the merits of various game shows and Stefon’s desire to get a dog if he can save up to live in something larger than a studio. He needs clear boundaries before this escalates, though. “I’m starting to think that I might be, eventually, if it’s you. There's other things I'm up for.”

“EEEEE.” Then Stefon’s squeal ends and he starts chewing on his bedazzled sleeve. “Sorry. Carry on, Seth Meyers.”

“I’d like to...uh...try kissing you when it’s my idea, and when I know nobody’s watching. Can we start with that?”

Stefon’s grin seems as pleased by this as if Seth had offered multiple days of largely bed-based existence. And indeed, when they’re on Stefon’s lumpy sofa - covered in popped bubble wrap for some reason - Stefon returns Seth’s tentative kiss with the purest no-holds-barred joy. It’s not ferocious or fast. It’s focused. Seth ends up sitting sideways to accommodate Stefon’s persistent efforts to crawl into his lap. Stefon doesn’t just go for Seth’s mouth and face and neck but also his hands, like they’re precious things, and unbuttons Seth’s smart-casual henley so he can get at his clavicle.

“Can I please mark you up a little teensy bit where people won’t see?” Stefon says, in that hushed way of his that sounds timid yet cocky at the exact same time. “So when I see you on TV in one of your nice suits, nobody’s gonna know but me what I left under there.”

Half an hour ago Seth might have said no, but by this point it felt logical. And, fine, hot. He runs his fingers through Stefon’s hair and tries not to squirm. He hadn’t realized Stefon also intended to lift up Seth’s shirt for even more love bites and hickeys, but he doesn’t object.

“You okay?” Stefon asks as he sits back and inspects his work.

Seth pulls him in for another kiss, then says, “Yeah, uh, so, still want to keep my pants at least part on, but you can unzip them and put your hands wherever you want, I think. I’ll let you know if…”

“If you start freaking out?”

“I only want to ask you for stuff I can handle doing back,” Seth says. He feels like a goddamn teenager fumbling in the backseat of his dad’s car. He doesn’t hate it. There are worse things than getting your youth back for a little while.

“I don’t expect you to be more amazing than you already are by being Seth Meyers,” Stefon says soothingly. “Though if you want me to blow you, you don’t have to return the favor today. Because I’d really like to. I’ve wanted to since the first time we met, when you said, ‘Stefoooooon’, like you felt like you should be mad but weren’t, and you were trying not to laugh, and you were just _so adorable_.”

Seth feels like a dork for pressing a kiss to the part in Stefon’s hair for that, but Stefon’s never afraid to be thought the fool, why shouldn’t Seth let go of it too? “I appreciate it, but not now.”

Undaunted, Stefon manages to _coo_ over every aspect of Seth’s junk that he can see or feel during the handjob with such absurd conviction that Seth is giggling (yet moaning) too hard to continue making out with him. He comes thinking nothing but: _I adore this ridiculous man._

Stefon gives Seth a few minutes for his brain to come back online and provides a Jolly Roger designed bandana (?) to clean himself off with. Then he clears his throat.

“Right! How do you want me to…”

“I've got lotion you can use. Could you maybe stroke me off while holding me down on the floor naked, me naked I mean, and sternly telling me names of places normal tourists like to go to?

Seth doesn’t laugh, because Stefon looks too wide-eyed and eager to be joking about this. “Which part of the floor and hold you down how?”

Turns out Stefon has a reasonably comfortable rainbow-dyed goatskin rug under one of the mounds of dirty clothes and Legos. Apparently he and a lawyer friend of his like playing with Legos when they’re stoned, but rarely manage to construct anything other than walls.

“Yeah, Shy sometimes spends a few hours here when his girlfriend books a client who wants to use _their_ playroom while he’s not at the office,” Stefon says casually, before stripping and lying back on the rug with his wrists crossed over his head.

The sight definitely does something to Seth. If this is the sort of thing taking LSD would reliably show him, he’d consider it. He takes his own shirt off, to feel Stefon’s skin against his when he leans down to kiss him deeply. Then one hand over the wrists, one slightly slick hand on the first erection he’s ever touched other than his own. “The Statue of Liberty. That one is extremely obvious, Stefon, you should have thought of that one right away.”

Stefon licks his lips and his pupils are like dark lakes Seth could fall into. “Yes, Seth Meyers. That was very bad of me.”

“MOMA. It’s art. It’s a classic.”

“Yeah?”

“The Empire State Building.”

“Mmm, yeah, give it to me…”

“A ton of possible sporting events. TV filming location tours. The Guggenheim.”

“Oh yes, yes, keep going…”

****

Poor little closet boy can’t handle the bed right now and the floor isn’t that soft even with the rug, so Stefon gets both of them some chocolate almond milk and commands to Seth join him on the couch. Though not before getting each of them a fleece blanket a woman gave him in exchange for him rescuing her pet iguana from a lamppost. “Let’s be human amoebas.”

“What’s a human amoeba?” Seth asks, draping the blanket over his shoulders and settling against the cushions. He hasn’t put his shirt back on. Hallelujah. He also hadn’t asked for Stefon to put any of his clothes on. Double hallelujah.

“That’s when you have a blanket draped over your back and shoulders and you wrap someone up like you’re eating them with your whooooooole body.” He demonstrates by tackling Seth in slow motion. When Seth laughs, it’s like when DJ Baby Bok Choy puts on a remix of a song Stefon likes, and he’s made it a song Stefon l -

L -

Lo -

Shit.

****

There will come a time where Seth is an idiot, where he keeps putting off Stefon’s request to go public as a couple, and he assumes that he and Stefon can stay as they are or at least go back to being friends. There will come a time when he realizes how wrong he is, and he’ll make it right.

There will come a time when their life together will be in its own way like one of Stefon’s clubs: sprouted in an unlikely location under unconventional circumstances, full of a colorful cast of characters with an unusual means of being allowed entry, often confusing and loud, containing celebrity sightings, and having everything. Everything.


End file.
